


How (Not) to Date a Superhero

by BouncyPickle



Series: Dating and Other Disasters [1]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Friendship, Deaf Clint Barton, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Good Guy Wade Wilson, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Idiots in Love, Insecure Clint Barton, Insecure Wade Wilson, Kate Bishop Is a Good Bro, Kidnapping, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Clint Barton, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BouncyPickle/pseuds/BouncyPickle
Summary: Clint is an idiot in love with Wade. Wade is an idiot in love with Clint. Kate wishes they'd figure their shit out already. Clint wishes Kate would butt out of his love life. Wade, well, Wade just wishes Clint would confess there ain't nothing wrong with a little bump n' grind.





	1. Chapter 1

Clint Barton, Hawkeye, the hyper-observant archer who never missed, could be unbearably dense at times. Specifically, when it came to basic human emotions. Kate was not by any means a well-adjusted adult herself but compared to Clint she was a paragon of emotional stability. Which was why she caught onto Wade's crush well before Clint did. Maybe Clint had noticed Wade’s very obvious hints but Kate knew from experience that Clint brushed off any positive attention thrown his way as a joke.

So Wade's devotion to Hawkeye as a hero and Clint as a friend, Clint probably saw as another of Wade's weird quirks. It was pretty clear Clint thought Wade tolerated his company as some kind of means to an end or as a way to amuse himself. Kate knew it was much more complicated than that. She wasn't a Hawkeye for nothing, after all. Just as she caught Wade slipping into Clint's personal space more and more she also caught Clint pushing him out of it less and less.

As obvious as Wade was about his emotions, wearing them on his sleeve so boldly people assumed they were a lie so he couldn't get hurt, Clint hid his in barely there smiles and fleeting looks. Clint's eyes were so blue they took Kate's breath away sometimes, stunning in their beauty and cunning in their perceptiveness. Her own blue eyes could barely hold a torch to his but she wasn't jealous, not really. As much as Clint's eyes observed, they also gave away.

She could see the change in the way he looked at Wade, first with suspicion, then with hesitant amusement, then exasperated endearment, and now something else. Something that looked a lot like the L-word, not that Kate was really sure what that looked like herself. She knew Clint loved her and Lucky and his arrows and his eyes twinkled with joy, exasperation, and all other kinds of emotion when he looked at them. Wade, though. Wade was something else entirely.

Kate kind of wished she was a mind reader at times just because Clint could be so damn good at hiding his feelings. Not always, like when she would give up trying to call him because he wouldn't answer only to find him on his couch, surrounded by days worth of protein bar wrappers, watching a marathon of Dog Cops without his hearing aids, wearing the same clothes she'd seen him in days before and smelling like he hadn't showered in a month. Clint didn't let just anyone see him in a slump like that though and it said a lot about how much he trusted Kate that he didn't bother pushing her away anymore. Now he would sigh and let her force him to take a shower and think that she tricked him into practicing with his bow until he perked up enough to eat a meal and drink some water.

Kate could understand his feelings during times like that, or well, could understand that depression, even though he refused to call it that, wasn't the same as being sad and that it affected different people in different ways. Even so there were times Clint's pretty blue eyes would flood with so much sorrow it made Kate’s heart wrench in longing for that goofy, cocksure carnie she knew was lurking underneath waiting to break free. Other times his face would go blank and that freaked Kate out even more.

She knew he'd been a spy for SHIELD and she knew he had been damn good but sometimes she forgot about the darker parts he kept hidden under that goofy smile. When she caught him sitting, hunched over a pot of coffee, with a dazed, distant look in his dull eyes and a flat, vacant expression on his face, Kate knew pulling him out of whatever thoughts he was drowning in would take serious effort. Most of the time, she left and came back later, giving him space to figure it out on his own. She didn't ask what he was feeling during times like that and honestly, she didn't want to know. His feelings toward Wade, though, she did want to figure out.

“So, Deadpool,” she asked, marching into Clint's apartment and passing him a cup of coffee while he stuffed a spoonful of Frooty Hoops into his mouth, “He's been hanging out here a lot.”

Clint paused his chewing to frown, confused, “Not really. I mean now that everything’s settled down he shows up more than he used to I guess.”

Kate leaned over the counter across from him, “Is that a bad thing? He's kind of notoriously bad news, Clint.”

Clint snorted, “Tell me about it. I don't think he'd do anything, though. Guy's crazier than a bag of cats but he isn't a super villain. Besides it's not like I'm in hiding. Plenty of people know where I live...which is kinda freaky actually.”

“Uh-huh,” Kate dragged the newspaper to her so she could pretend to be disinterested and distracted, “Don't get me wrong, I kind of like the guy. He's super unpredictable but you have to admit he's fun.”

When Kate glanced up to gauge Clint's reaction, she found him staring at her, clearly seeing right through her bullshit. It had been worth a try.

“No,” he said seriously, “I don't like to get involved in whatever you wanna do but that's-that's...just no, Katie,” Clint looked two parts uncomfortable, one part pissed, and Kate figured she probably deserved that for snooping, “Wade is dangerous. He's a mercenary! And isn't he way too old, anyway?”

“Too old?” Kate didn't think that was fair. Him and Wade were the same age-ish, she thought, “Dude, isn’t Deadpool the same age as you?”

That made Clint's face shrivel with disgust, “Probably. I don't know. Isn't that weird to you? It should be someone much younger, you know, like _you_.” Now Kate was pissed. She never knew Clint to be that shallow and going after someone half his age, barely even an adult, because they were like _her_ was just messed up.

“Damn, Clint. I didn't realize age mattered that much to you!” she snapped, “What the hell is wrong with someone older?”

“Well there's nothing _wrong_ , I mean,” Clint stuttered and Kate could see how embarrassed he was and she almost felt bad for him, almost, “I just thought...Wade is... _Wade_ , Kate. Wouldn't it be weird to date him?”

“At this point, it's weird not to,” Kate quipped and then sighed, giving Clint an understanding look in hopes to alleviate some tension, “He always comes around, wanting to hang out. He helps with stuff whenever he can. We spent last Christmas together. I mean, he bought Lucky that giant bed and all those toys. He's the flipping president of the Hawkeye Appreciation Club!”

“First, he stole Lucky that stuff and I was the one that had to return it,” Clint huffed bitterly but deflated before any real anger could settle, “You know I really don't like being involved in this kind of stuff. Why do we have to talk about it?”

“Why…?” Kate’s face screwed up into an offended scowl. She knew Clint would be difficult but she was just trying to help. “Because we _need_ to talk about it, clearly. Wade cares about you, Clint. Yeah he shows it in some really unusual ways but that doesn't mean his feelings aren't real. And your feelings matter too.”

Clint snorted derisively and brushed her off with a shrug, “Look if you want to ask him out, I'm not going to stop you but I'm just saying, it's a terrible idea.”

“Ask him-?” Kate stopped, thought over their previous conversation and groaned. Slumping forward, she dropped her forehead against the countertop, “Clint. I do not like Deadpool. God, you are such a dunce.”

“Okay, then what was all that about?” Clint threw his hands up in the air, “It sounds like you like him.”

“No, dumbass, _you_ like him,” Kate glared up at the other man, “I was saying _you_ should ask him out.”

“Oh,” Clint sat with a stunned look on his face before red flooded his cheeks, “I-I don't-”

“Please,” Kate snorted, “I know you've been swooning over him. I'm a Hawkeye, remember? I see things.”

“Swooning?!” Clint's voice cracked, “I do not-”

“Who's swooning over what now?” Wade’s voice coming from the doorway startled both Hawkeyes and they jumped, ready to strike. Wade lifted his hands in surrender, “Sorry, the door was open.”

Kate remembered closing and locking it, “No it wasn't.”

“It was after I opened it,” Wade corrected before turning to Clint, “I was hoping to catch you getting dressed, Hawkguy. Too bad. I'll have to watch you getting undressed later to make up for it then. Now we got to go. There's a real motherfucker causing problems just down the road and I could use back up. He refuses to sell me fifty tacos as if there's some kind of limit on delicious Mexican food. I need you to use your Avengerness to _persuade_ him to change his mind. Unless you're scared. Which is fine. We can't all be as brave as Kate-”

“Wade,” Clint interrupted, “If I go will you shut up?”

“No promises.”

“Fine, then I'm turning my hearing aids off,” Clint huffed and stood.

“Okay, okay,” Wade acquiesced, “I'll talk _less._ Does that work for you?”

“I guess so,” Clint reached for his bow but hesitated, “Do I need to suit up?”

“Yeah probably,” Wade nodded.

Clint paused, “Hey Wade, um-” Clint ran a hand through his yellow hair at the base of his skull, nervous, “Can we...?” Then he motioned to the stairs leading up to his bedroom.

“Oh are you going to give me a show, Hawkguy? I didn’t even bring my stripper heels! Don’t worry, I’m sure your legs look great anyway,” Wade giggled and Clint gaped at him, “Is that not where this was going?”

“No!” Clint swiftly turned toward the stairs, storming away. Then he paused and sighed before glancing over his shoulder, “Just..come on Wade.”

Wade made a beeline for Clint's loft at the same time Kate made for the door. She called Lucky and decided to take him for a very long walk, just to be safe. “I’ll leave you two alone!” she called as Clint scowled at her from the top of his stairs, “Give you some _privacy_!”


	2. Chapter 2

“So…” Clint started, yanking open his closet doors and purposefully ignoring Wade's eyes watching him, “I, uh, needed to get you alone,” Wade's grin widened and Clint sputtered, “Not like that! I need to talk to you. You know, alone.”

“I figured as much,” Wade replied casually, flopping down onto Clint's unmade bed, “Shoot.”

“Okay, well-” Clint paused, mulling over his next words carefully, “So Katie has taken it upon herself to _fix_ my love life, apparently. And she thinks you and I...er…”

When Clint looked over to Wade, he was surprised to see the other man sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees, and chin in his palms, looking for all the world like an attentive listener. Clint could see the smirk the man was wearing even with his mask on. Instead of helping Clint finish the thought, Wade waited for Clint to say it.

“She thinks we should date,” he managed to spit out in one clean sentence.

Wade laughed, “I knew there was a reason I liked her so much!”

“Yeah, ha ha,” Clint rolled his eyes and finally turned back to his clothes. He grabbed the back of his purple t-shirt and pulled it over his head. As he slipped his black uniform top on, Clint said, “What I'm thinking is that we should do it. Teach her a lesson.”

“Well I've certainly done it for less,” Wade chuckled, leaning back and crossing his legs at the ankle, boots tangling in Clint's sheets. Ah, well. They were dirty anyway, “So you a top or a bottom, sensual arrow lord? I go either way.”

“What?” Clint was so surprised by the other man's words, he stopped in the middle of pulling his jeans off to gawk at him. Then Clint's face flooded red. When he realized Wade was joking, Clint hurried back into action, yanking his bottoms off; really he shouldn't have been surprised considering Wade's constant teasing, and quickly pulled his tactical pants up.

“Very funny. And that's not what I meant,” Clint leaned down to tug on a boot, “I'm talking about dating. We should date,” Clint stuttered when Wade gasped and he quickly continued, “No! I mean, we should pretend to date. So Kate will get off my back. We can be all gross and coupley and it will drive her crazy. Teach her a lesson about snooping so much.”

“Oh, ho, ho, ho,” Wade chuckled mischievously, “I am so in. This is like a dream come true. A wet dream. Do I get to grope your delightful arm muscles whenever I want? How about your perky buns? Oh! Oh! Can I lick whipped cream off your-”

“Wade!” Clint yelped, flustered enough that his voice cracked and that made it even worse. He cleared his throat as his face burned, “How about we take things slow, you know? Hand holding and, uh, stuff like that?”

“You are too cute, Clint. Can I call you Clint now that we're a fake couple? Okay, Clintykins. Here's the thing. You wanna sell it, I can sell it,” Wade sat up in a hurry, waving a finger at Clint while he spoke, “I'll make the better Hawkeye _so_ uncomfortable she'll never want to know what goes on behind your closed doors again but I want something in return.”

“Of course,” Clint had expected as much, “What do you want, Wade?”

“I _want_ fifty tacos,” Wade folded his arms, “From the mean asshole guy running the cart down the street.”

Clint thought it over. He could probably afford that. With a shrug, he slung his quiver over his shoulder and quickly his bow followed. “Sounds doable,” he acknowledged, extending a hand toward the other man, “Do we have a deal, then?”

“I've never had someone bribe me for a date before,” Wade chuckled, “It's a deal.”

Something about the handshake felt undeniably final and Clint swallowed down his suddenly building trepidation. Before he could seriously contemplate or regret his choice, Wade used his grip on Clint’s hand to drag him out of the room. He held Clint's hand as they left the apartment like they were two lovestruck teenagers and not two grown men in superhero costumes. Clint rolled his eyes but didn't pull away.

Wade saddled up to his side, clinging to his arm, as they walked down the street. People stared and Clint wanted to tell Wade he didn’t need to put on a show for everyone but couldn’t bring himself to. Wade was doing him a favor after all, Clint figured he might as well let Wade have his fun. A group of girls walking by lifted their phones to snap a photo of them and Wade made sure to lean his head down on Clint’s shoulder and smile when they did. Clint rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the blush he could feel warm on his cheeks.

“C’mon Wade, really?” he groaned, “You don’t have to oversell it, you know?”

“Screw that!” Wade giggled in return, “I’m going to make the most out of our fake relationship while it lasts, Cookie Tush.” While Clint was left sputtering at that ridiculous nickname, Wade tugged him up to the taco cart and yelled, “Miguel! This apollon specimen of masculinity and beauty is my boyfriend. He’s an _Avenger_.”

Clint lifted a hand, an awkward little wave, “Um, hi.”

“And he wants you to sell me fifty tacos,” Wade carried on and the man behind the cart looked Clint over with a critical eye, “Any time now, please and thank you.”

“Here,” Clint pulled out his credit card and handed it to the vendor with a smile that he knew came across as more of a grimace, “We’re going to need those tacos, sir. Avengers business. And you, uh, better make it sixty, just to be safe.”

Wade beamed up at him when the man finally caved in with a deeply put upon sigh. The total was something Clint didn’t even want to think about and he tucked his credit card away. They waited almost an hour for the man to sling out all the tacos they had ordered and by the time they were done, both men’s arms were completely full of bags stuffed to the brim with tacos. Clint didn’t think he’d ever seen Wade so happy.

“You are the _best_ Avenger, Pudding Pants!” Wade kissed Clint on his cheek through his mask, “I love you more than Red Skull loves Cap!”

“You know they’re enemies, right?” Clint arched a brow in the other man’s direction as they made their way back to his apartment building, “They hate each other.”

Wade waggled his eyebrows, “Or do they?”

“Clint! What the hell?” Kate shouted the moment he stepped through his door, “It took you so long I was afraid you guys had been taken by AIM again or something!”

Clint smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, Katie-Kate. Next time we go on an impromptu date, I'll be sure to leave a note.” He walked over to his counter to set his bags down and then turned to take bags from Wade's arms.

“You better--wait, date?” Kate's eyes twinkled up at them in glee, “Like a _date_ date?”

“Well, yeah,” Clint huffed, playing a little more embarrassed than he actually felt, “You were right. I asked Wade out and-”

“And I said yes because I may be crazy but I'm not _that_ crazy!” Wade laughed, absolutely delighted, and wrapped himself around Clint's arm again.

Clint jumped when he felt lips on his neck and looked down to see Wade had pushed his mask up just enough for his mouth to be exposed. When he grinned up at Clint it was all teeth and smugness. Not one to be outdone, Clint cupped Wade's jaw and leaned in to plant a kiss of his own against Wade's bare cheek.

“Blegh,” Kate stuck her tongue out at them, “God I hate being right all the time. You two are so schmoopy it hurts my eyes to watch.”

“Then look away, less cute Hawkeye,” Wade pursed his lips comically and made smoochy faces at Clint, “Gotta show my man some love.”

Clint shoved his face away, “No you don't. Now eat your tacos before they get cold, Wade.”

“Great idea!” Wade yanked his mask off and dragged a bag of tacos across the counter to him, “Wanna make a bet on how many tacos I can eat without dying? I'm thinking I can do all fifty, what do you think Snookums?”

“I think you're crazy,” Clint snorted, grabbing the bag of tacos he had bought for Kate and himself. And Lucky, “Also there's no way you can eat more than twenty.”

“Oh you are on,” Wade demanded, stuffing a whole taco in his mouth as if to prove his point, “Ifn I vvn m wan blwwjbs,” he gulped, “Lots and lots of blowjo-”

Clint slammed a hand over Wade's mouth, blushing so hard he could feel it all the way up to his ears. Kate was staring at him, mouth agape, frozen as she was about to take a bite, and her eyes were wide. Perfect, Kate was already regretting her decision. Clint could feel Wade smirk under his palm so he sent the other man a glare. Then Clint tried a little smirk of his own.

“Okay tough guy,” Clint leaned in closer and Wade's eyes lit up, “But if I win I want _you_ ,” and he moved in even closer so he was whispering in Wade's ear and Kate couldn't hear, “Fuck you, Wade. You're such an ass. Blowjobs, really?” and then he pulled back when Wade chuckled into his hand, “All night, Wade. I mean it.”

“Oh, Toffee Pie, I can go a lot longer than that,” Wade purred as he guided Clint's hand away from his face and Kate blanched, “but you are so on.”

“Oh god, what have I done?” Kate wrapped her taco back up and stood, “I'm gonna go train or something until my brain can no longer paint an image of,” and she waved a hand in Clint and Wade's direction, “that.”

“Sounds like a pretty good image to me,” Wade shrugged but Clint caught something a little off about his expression, something his mask would normally cover, “Especially if it features Clint being a very gracious, very _giving_ loser.”

“Ha, ha,” Clint huffed and tossed the remaining half of his taco to Lucky who simply looked too sad to ignore any longer, “You won't be able to eat all those tacos, Wade.”

“Watch me, Hot Stuff,” Wade grinned.

“I'm leaving!” Kate shouted from the door, “Be safe! Use protection! And for God's sake try not to disturb your neighbors.” Then she slammed the door behind her with a resounding bang.


	3. Chapter 3

Wade ate all of the tacos. He really, really shouldn't have. Clint kept telling him not to and even assured him he wasn't going to suck Wade’s dick no matter how many he ate. Still Wade refused to give up. In the end, he barfed so many times they both lost count and wound up crying into the last taco as he choked it down. After, they found themselves on Clint's couch, sitting side by side while Wade groaned in despair and Clint laughed at his expense.

“I want to say I told you so,” Clint started, browsing channels, “but honestly I'm impressed.”

“What can I say?” Wade had his head tipped back, forearm thrown over his eyes, “I’m an impressive guy.”

Clint snorted. He found there was a marathon of stupid action movies, ones that had just enough explosions to hold his interest and he whacked Wade’s thigh to get his attention, “This okay?”

Wade lifted his head, then shrugged, “It’s no My Little Pony but it’ll do.”

“You actually watch that crap?” Clint flopped back, tucking one of his legs up under the other and slinging an arm over the back of the couch.

“Hey don’t dis it if you haven’t seen it,” Wade shot back but his words held no heat, “It’s Ellie’s favorite show.”

Clint’s eyes softened, “In that case it can’t be too bad.”

“Better than _this_ ,” Wade motioned to the screen and they watched as a guy jumped from the roof of a skyscraper through the window of another. He action-rolled to his feet, unscathed, “Can you believe this? As someone who has done that before on three separate occasions, it doesn’t work without the healing factor.”

“Or a grappling arrow,” Clint added, “and even then you’re probably going to break at least three somethings.”

Wade quirked a brow at him, “You speaking from experience?”

“Yep,” Clint popped the p at the end of the word for emphasis, “And it takes forever to get all the glass out.”

“Tell me about it,” Wade groaned, “I got impaled in the stomach with glass once and I was throwing up glass shards for two hours. I’ll take bullets over that fucking shit any day.”

“No kidding,” Clint yanked up the corner of his shirt to show Wade a mottling of scars speckled down his side, “I would take getting shot over having to sit through Nat picking all the glass out of me for hours again. That woman has no bedside manner.”

Wade examined his scars with a critical eye and a smirk, “That does not shock me at all.”

Then Wade started up a story about how one time Natasha knocked out his teeth for flirting with her, even though Clint was pretty sure it had something more to do with tying her up first. Clint found himself laughing as Wade talked and before he knew it the two of them fell into comfortable conversation, sharing stupid stories and bitching about fellow heroes. It felt good, really good, to enjoy another person’s company so easily.

“Hey, Wade, uh,” Clint started, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Thanks for, you know, agreeing to go along with this dating crap. I know it’s a really weird favor to ask but I just…” he stopped, glancing at Wade uneasily.

Wade shifted closer and laid a gloved hand on one of Clint’s pecs, “Come on Silly Bear, tell ol’ DP what’s wrong. Get it off your chest.”

Swatting Wade’s hand away, Clint sighed, “It’s just...I don’t want Kate to think she always has to worry about me like that. The last few years have been complete shit, I mean you know that as well as anyone,” when Clint glanced up, Wade was nodding solemnly, “I know her heart’s in the right place but goddamn it, I just want her to get off my back. That’s pretty fucked up, huh?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy about what is and isn’t fucked up,” Wade patted his shoulder, “but I think teaching her lessons in weird, out there ways is kinda your thing, right? You’re just reminding her you’re a big boy who can take care of himself, even if that’s a bit of a stretch-” Clint elbowed Wade away but Wade just laughed, “I’m trying to be serious! She’s gotta learn not to set up people on blind dates with their best friends at some point!”

“You're not-” Clint started but stopped to think about it. Kate was his best friend but also his family and outside of her Clint really just had Nat and their relationship was more complicated than anything which meant...“Oh my god. You are my best friend.”

“Well, duh,” Wade rolled his eyes, “I thought we established that when we did drugs together with that shaman in Peru. Naked,” he waggled his eyebrows.

“That was-you know what? It doesn't matter,” Clint waved a hand, too tired to argue, “Just. Thanks, Wade.”

Wade seemed taken aback for a moment before he grinned. “Don't sweat it. Gettin’ to act like you're sweet on me is hardly a chore. More like a dream come true. To think all those years of pining over you and your magnificent tuckus have led up to this moment. I feel like a real Disney princess. And I’m allowed to say that now because of the merger!”

“Pining, Wade? Seriously?” Clint chuckled, “I know my ass is magical but I’m not really _pining over_ material.”

Wade just smiled, “You are to me, Candy Cakes.”

Clint rolled his eyes and pushed down the churning, uncomfortable feeling of really, really wanting that to be true. Sometimes he wished Wade would stop with the jokes so Clint could actually get a read on him. He _knew_ Wade didn’t actually like him but some self deprecating part deep down wanted Wade to just fucking say it so Clint could really be sure he was right.

“Movie’s over,” Clint changed the subject and shoved the remote in Wade’s direction, “Your turn to pick.”

Wade eagerly put on a marathon of Golden Girls and Clint was too tired to contest it. It only took half an episode for Clint to start dozing off and Wade's insistent, chattering commentary wasn't helping. The other man's voice was stupidly relaxing. Clint blinked heavily. He always got so tired in the afternoons. Yawning, Clint let his eyes fall shut. He fell asleep listening to Wade talk about wanting Dorothy to teach him a lesson--the man had an obsession with Bea Arthur the likes of which the world had never seen.

Clint jerked awake to the sound of his alarm going off. He groaned and rolled, tucking his face into what he thought was the back of the couch. After he rubbed his forehead into hard, red leather, Clint realized he was staring at Deadpool's stomach. Which could only mean his head was in Deadpool's lap. The first thought through his mind was that he had been poisoned by robots and was hallucinating again.

“That sounds important,” Wade ran his fingers through Clint's hair and it felt so nice Clint melted into it for a moment.

Suddenly, Clint remembered why Wade was there and _then_ he realized it was the _Avengers_ alarm calling him and he jolted upright. Leaping off the couch in a rush, Clint made a mad grab for the boots he had kicked off earlier and tugged them on while he hopped over to the quiver and bow he'd left on the counter by the scattered taco wrappers.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, searching frantically for the alert to turn it off and stuff it in his pocket, “I gotta go,” when he ran by the back of the couch, Wade tipped his head back to look at him and Clint quickly dipped down and pecked him on the lips, “Sorry, Avengers’ business,” Clint waved over his shoulder as he rushed out the door, “I'll see you later.”

“Uh,” Wade said after him, “Yeah.”

It wasn't until Clint reached the bottom of the stairs that he realized what he'd done. He halted mid step, flushing every shade of red under the sun. The feeling of Wade's lips under his own flashed through his mind suddenly. Groaning, Clint turned to bang his forehead into the wall with a dull thud.

“Barton, you goon,” he muttered to himself, “The guy doesn't want to kiss you. Now he's gonna think you're an _idiot_.”


	4. Chapter 4

All things considered, this wasn’t the worst situation Clint had ever found himself in. For starters, he hadn’t even been kidnapped by some crazy asshole with a lifelong grudge who had no concept of letting something go. Also he was pretty sure nothing important was broken. Still, he was laying in a dumpster next to the shattered remains of his bow and on top of a soggy bag of something that reeked like old spinach. His quiver was probably somewhere on the ground next to the dumpster. It had been torn off by one of the robots attacking him and thrown over the roof’s edge, right before Clint performed the encore and ended up in a dumpster. Judging by the way the world was spinning even though he wasn’t moving, Clint must have hit his head at some point even though he didn’t remember it.

Suddenly, Spiderman peered over the edge of the dumpster, “Hey buddy, you doing okay? You look a little down in the dumps.” He cackled and Clint groaned, he could only hear Peter in one ear which meant he must have broken one of his hearing aids in the scuffle.

“I’m fine,” he lifted a hand and Peter caught it to pull him up with unnatural ease, “My bow broke my fall.”

“Yeah well we won while you were busy dumpster diving,” Peter picked up Clint’s discarded, mostly empty quiver and handed it to him as Clint stood, straightening himself out, “You need to check in with medical?”

Probably. Clint could feel the mottling of bruises already forming in the stiffness of his back. Whatever, he had definitely had worse. “Nah,” he waved Peter off, “I’m alright. I cannot wait to shower though.”

“Later,” Cap said at the mouth of the alley, motioning for Peter and Clint to join him, “Iron Man thinks there may be more going on here than meets the eye.”

“Ohh,” Peter clapped his hands together in excitement, “A conspiracy? I love a good conspiracy!”

Clint groaned, getting the spare bow out from the compartment in the bottom of his quiver. It was collapsable. He slung it over his shoulder and hurried to gather the few arrows he could that were scattered around the alley. When Cap called his name, Clint sighed and jogged over to meet up with the others. It was going to be a very long day.

It was a long day  _ and  _ night, as it turned out. Tony tracked the robots to some creepy facility hidden under the city, and not in the abandoned subway tracks, but in the sewers. Clint was sent in with Cap because as Tony put it he “already smelled like shit from his fun little adventure in the dumpster.” Cap barely complained about the smell which only made Clint feel worse about his non-stop whining but come on, he was walking through ankle deep gray water. If there was a time and place to complain, it was here and now.

“Did you hear that?” Cap asked, halting and lifting his hand to motion for Clint to do the same. No, Clint hadn’t heard anything but considering the state of his hearing aids, he wasn’t surprised, “I think there’s someone up ahead.”

There were many someones, as it turned out. Just as the two of them rounded the next corner, a swarm of bright yellow AIM agents appeared out of nowhere. They seemed equally as shocked as him and Cap so that gave the Avengers a very small advantage of making the first move. Cap let loose his shield and Clint fired a net arrow at the same time. Their first strike took down half of the agents but they were still completely outnumbered.

Cap said something behind him and when Clint turned to ask, “What?” someone bashed him right in the face with the butt of their gun. It was through sheer willpower that Clint didn’t fall face first into a river of sewage and instead dropped to one knee. Recovering quickly, Clint ignored his pounding headache and the blood trickling down from his eyebrow into his eye. He landed a very solid uppercut, knocking the agent out with one clean blow. He fell with a splash and Clint returned to the fight. Between him and Cap, the AIM idiots didn’t stand a chance and after a surprisingly quick skirmish, they surrendered.

“Finally,” Clint sighed and stopped himself from rubbing the back of his arm through the sweat on his forehead; he did not want anything on his hands to make contact with the open wound over his eyebrow, “Thanks for not making this more difficult than it needed to be.”

Clint spoke too soon. Just as he finished that thought, a robot crashed down through the rock ceiling between him and Cap. The AIM agents must have been waiting for it because they didn’t take a moment to be shocked before running back to their crates of illegal weapons and making a break for it. Clint looked up to see Cap motioning for him to follow them and Clint did, leaving the robots in Cap’s capable hands.

The AIM goons had a head start but Clint caught up to them just as they were climbing up a metal ladder and out to who knows where. He leapt, landing halfway up and managing to get to the top before they could drop a manhole cover on him. They shouted and scrambled away so Clint climbed out after them. The moment he was stable enough, propped up on one knee with his back straight, Clint readied his bow. There were five of them. He nocked three arrows. Drawing, Clint inhaled slowly. He aimed, only for a second, and then took the shot.

One arrow pierced a goon in the back of the thigh and he dropped with a shout. Another arrow exploded into ice, freezing two goons midstep. The last arrow opened into a net before tangling around the final two agents and wrapping them up tight, dropping them. 

Clint exhaled.

“I got ‘em,” he said, hoping his comms were still working since he couldn’t hear them.

Clint climbed the rest of his way to his feet and walked over to the henchmen he had captured. They weren’t going anywhere. Then his eyes panned away from them to the metal crate they had been carrying and subsequently dropped in their hurry to get away. Clint wasn’t sure what was inside but the logo on top was sure as shit a bad sign.

“Uh, guys,” he said, again hoping that  _ someone  _ was listening, “these assholes have Stark tech.”

Tech that could, apparently, melt through ice and cut through titanium netting. Clint found that out when he was knocked over the back of his head and landed hard on the ground with a mouthful of pavement. There was a sad little bzzt before his working hearing aid gave up too and the world was thrown into muted silence. The AIM goons didn’t seem too keen on him following them again so they took a moment to kick him while he was down. Literally. Blow after blow rained down on him before Clint could regain his bearings.

When his head stopped spinning enough for him to see, Clint caught the ugly yellow boot kicking him in the ribs and twisted. The man dropped and Clint quickly swept the others’ legs out from under them with a swift kick. This time, he made sure to knock each of the goons out, even the one who tried to run that Clint had to throw another’s stupid boot at to take out. Then Clint flopped back into the road to catch his breath.

“Correction,” Clint mumbled, fairly certain he was just talking to himself, “Now I got ‘em.”


	5. Chapter 5

After all was said and done, the AIM goons arrested and taken by SHIELD for questioning, Clint getting a once over by the emergency responders to get Cap off his back, and the whole team debriefing thing, the sun was already rising. Clint waved off Peter’s offer for breakfast and decided to head home. He really wanted to take a shower and put on pajamas. Maybe nap on some frozen peas. The EMTs told him he had a concussion and maybe some cracked ribs but Clint refused a trip to the hospital. He’d had way worse.

When he got back to his apartment building, Clint kicked off his boots and dropped them in the trash by the street. There was no way the sewer smell was ever coming out of those. Then he padded upstairs to his apartment in his bare feet. He dropped his quiver and bow on the floor just inside the door and immediately stripped out of his uniform, making his way to the bathroom. He tossed the shirt in the trash, it was all ripped up anyway, and kicked the pants off into the hamper. Clint just barely remembered to take his hearing aids out and put them on the sink before getting in the shower.

The hot water cascading over him felt like a dream. Clint watched as dirt and blood and god knows what else swirled down the drain. Squirting a glob of body wash into his palm, Clint scrubbed at his hair and body, too tired to be bothered with shampoo but desperate to be clean. The soap stung the cuts along his scalp and face and various scrapes; he cursed when he got some in his eye. Rinsing off, Clint stopped to stand under the water with his eyes shut and let the tension of his sore muscles ease away. It was so tempting to stay that way, but Clint knew rest would be more beneficial and a nap sounded even better than steam cooking in the shower.

Clint shut the shower off and reached for a towel, drying off before wrapping it around his waist. He brushed his teeth a bit too quickly but screw it, he was tired. Yanking the door open, Clint left the bathroom and ran chest to chest into another man, shouting in surprise. Before he could take a defensive position, Clint recognized Wade, hand raised as if he’d been knocking, in Clint’s favorite purple pajama pants and an old Hawkeye logo shirt some company had given him for free. Clint clutched at his chest as his racing heart caught up to the situation.

“What the hell Wade?” Clint asked, “You scared the shit out of me man.”

Wade spun his hand in front of himself, then pointed to Clint, to his ear, to his chest, his eyebrows were raised, _Can you hear me?_ Clint didn’t ask why Wade was signing and not speaking but he appreciated it; reading lips required a lot of focus and Clint was really tired.

“No,” Clint glanced at his hearing aids sitting on the counter, “I broke my hearing aids. Were you here when I came in?” Wade nodded and Clint rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly, “Sorry if you were talking to me. I wasn’t ignoring you. Spent most of the night in the sewer and I really needed a shower.”

Wade made a circle with his hand and released it to three fingers, _Ok._

When he stepped to the side, Clint took that as his cue to leave the bathroom. He headed up to his bedroom to get some pajamas and Clint felt Wade follow him. When he glanced over his shoulder, Wade was turned away. Guilt sank into Clint’s chest, suddenly so heavy, when he remembered what had happened that afternoon. God, Clint was such an ass. Wade was probably waiting for Clint to get home so he could let him down easy or something. Clint pulled on a pair of boxers and his second favorite pair of pajama pants under his towel before tossing it onto his pile of dirty clothes on the floor. As he was looking for a shirt, Clint caught Wade signing at him and paused.

His brows were furrowed. Wade pointed at Clint, tapped his palm with the flat edge of his other hand twice, and pointed at him again. He was asking if Clint was okay. Clint glanced down at himself and winced. His torso was covered in steadily darkening bruises and various scrapes from his not so friendly encounter with the pavement while wrestling AIM goons.

“I’m fine, it looks worse than it is,” Clint put off getting a shirt to grab his spare hearing aids off the end table next to his bed where they were charging. They were big and purple and hooked over the top of his ears but they were comfortable enough and, more importantly, they worked. He pulled them on, easing them into place, “I’ve had way worse.”

“I don't doubt it,” Wade caught him by the elbow and Clint was surprised enough to let Wade drag him down from his loft, “Let me patch you up, Sugar Plum.”

Clint didn’t fight, too exhausted, and let Wade steer him into one of the stools at his counter. When Wade stepped in front of him, Clint was surprised the man had a first aid kit. It was small, something he probably kept in his utility belt, and it mostly consisted of duct tape and Hello Kitty band aids. Still, Clint couldn’t stop himself from smiling when Wade took to treating his minor wounds with all the seriousness of a paid professional. Clint didn’t tell Wade he could stick on band aids by himself and instead let Wade cover his road rash, scraped knuckles, and busted eyebrow with the little pink, surprisingly durable, bandages.

“Why do you even have a first aid kit?” Clint asked when Wade leaned over him to examine the cuts hidden in Clint’s gold locks.

Wade scoffed, as if he was offended, “I am a parent, I have to be prepared for anything.”

“Well that explains why they’re pink,” Clint huffed out a laugh, examining his bandaged hand.

“Nope,” Wade popped the p before stepping back. When he cupped Clint on either side of his face, turning his head up so he could probably check the dilation of Clint’s pupils, Clint felt his cheeks warm, “Ellie gets the Star Wars band aids. Hello Kitty is reserved for when duct taping my fingers back on takes too long. Hey, do you have a fever? You’re looking a little flushed there, Sweet Tits.” When Wade smirked, Clint scowled.

“I’m good, thanks,” Clint deadpanned but it did nothing to hide his embarrassment.

Wade pinched Clint’s ear, where he could feel a blush burning too, and giggled, “So _cute_ ,” before stepping away. Then Wade set about collecting his uniform and boots and various weapons he’d apparently stashed around Clint’s apartment. “Those are some nasty wounds on your head there. Probably gonna want to sleep those off.”

“Yeah, that is the plan,” Clint huffed, resting his elbow on the counter next to him and dropping his chin into his palm, watching as Wade ducked behind the counter to change, “Thanks by the way. Keep this up and people will think Deadpool’s gone soft.”

“I never go soft in company like yours,” Wade quipped, stepping back in front of Clint, head to toe in his red uniform. He tossed Clint a bottle of advil, “We need to talk, but it can wait. I have some errands to run,” and Clint really didn’t want to know what those could possibly be, “Can I swing by for dinner later?” It was such a casual and innocuous statement that coming from Wade, it put Clint on edge immediately.

He gave Wade a critical once-over but with his mask back on, Clint couldn’t really see anything out of place. “Sure,” he shrugged, hoping Wade didn’t pick up on the new uneasy energy between them, “I’ll be here.”

“Great!” Wade clapped his hands together in showy delight. Then he pounced at Clint, clutching both of Clint's hands in front of him, and planted a masked, emphatically loud smooch on Clint's forehead. Clint immediately regretted his decision; Wade was just mocking him now. Before he could act, Wade was leaving, “See you later, Brownie Bite!”

“Uh,” Clint watched Wade slam the door in his face and he deflated, waving, “Yeah.”

Clint was startled awake when all of his blankets were yanked off in one sweeping motion. Sunlight and frigid air assaulted him all at once and he groaned low in the back of his throat in protest. Rolling onto his side, Clint pulled his knees to his chest and tucked his face into his pillow. He had no idea what time it was but he had definitely not been sleeping long enough. A hand whacked him on his bare thigh with a hearty thack and Clint yelped in surprise. When he scrambled up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he wasn't all that shocked to see Kate standing next to his bed, scowling at him with her hands on her hips.

She was speaking but all he caught was the tail end, _-noon, Clint._

Clint waved her off, running a hand through his messy hair. “Avengers Mission,” he stifled a yawn, “Didn't get in til this morning. I'm allowed to sleep in late.”

 _Sure, on days...Cap...you,_ Kate was staring right at him as she spoke but his vision was still a little blurry so he missed most of what she said, _Are you...attention?_

“Yes. No,” he ran a hand over his face, “Let me get my hearing aids.”

Before he could reach for them, Kate was thrusting them into Clint's face. He glanced up and she mouthed the word _emergency_. Well that changed things. In a hurry, Clint looped his aids over his ears and clicked them on while he worked them into place. Once the whir of background noise settled to a bearable ambiance, Clint motioned for her to continue.

“So Cap called. Called _me_ , Clint. Because he was worried about _you_ ,” she huffed, “Why didn't you set your phone to vibrate and stick it in your armpit or something? Now I'm involved in your shit.”

“Sorry the leader of the Avengers bothered you during your coffee run,” Clint scowled, “What did he want, Katie?”

“He said the AIM agents you helped capture last night escaped and he thought they might target you,” she said and suddenly Clint understood her anger a lot more. Kate had been worried about him, “I guess they made off with some tech they really shouldn't have.”

Clint sighed, deeply, deeply put upon, “And why would they come after me?”

“I guess after you beat the hell out of them, they told the SHIELD operatives they were going to make you pay,” Kate folded her arms across her chest and gave Clint's shirtless form a once over, “Though it looks like they got in a few solid blows of their own.”

“Pssh, I've had worse,” Clint felt like he’d been saying that a lot lately. He stood, stretching until his back let out a satisfying pop, “So does Cap want us out there looking for them?”

“Yeah, he has a lead downtown he wants us to check out,” Kate glanced up at his eyebrow and smirked, “Aw, Clint, I didn't know you were a Hello Kitty fan.”

“They're Wade's,” Clint brushed past her toward his closet, “He patched me up this morning.”

“God you two are insufferably cute,” Kate giggled and Clint opened his mouth to explain it wasn't like that when he remembered that as far as she was concerned it was, “How's that going?”

“Nope. We are not talking about this,” Clint really didn't want to think about Wade and his unreasonably soft lips and Clint's inability to act like anything but a blushing school girl around him, “We have AIM goons to track down and arrest. No time for gossip.”

“There's always time for gossip,” Kate corrected but didn't press the issue, “Should I leave Lucky with Simone? We don't know how long this will take.”

Clint sighed, long and weary, and found his back-up bow, better than the collapsible one he'd been using before but not as good as the one he left crushed in a dumpster. “Yeah,” he acknowledged, “I have a bone to pick with these assholes.”

“More than a few if those bruises on your ribs are anything to go by,” Kate snorted as she walked out of the room then she yelled over her shoulder, “I'll be in the car so hurry up!”

Cap's lead ended up being a pretty massive waste of time and resources. There was an old AIM base in the tunnels under a laundromat called _Hung Out to Dry_ that only had washers and no dryers, a painfully obvious front. Clint and Kate infiltrated easily enough, tricking the elderly woman working the counter into letting them into the back office. It wasn't their fault she thought they were the tech guys hired to fix the office computer, which felt incredibly ironic considering the whole system belonged to AIM, the self glorified tech geniuses.

They let themselves into the basement lair only to discover it was, in fact, no longer inhabited by AIM but by the futzing Wrecking Crew. Clint didn't even know those dunces were still around. With the Hawkeyes working together, the Wrecking Crew didn't stand a ghost of a chance. Regardless it took them well into the night to infiltrate and incapacitate the criminals that they hadn't even been looking for. Clint assured himself it wasn't actually a failure since they didn't leave empty handed. Still, Cap's midnight phone call to tell them no one had been successful in finding the bad guys they actually were after left a wonky feeling in his chest, something a little too heavy to be fear but too twitchy to be anything else.

It was dark in Bed Stuy by the time they got back to Clint's building and Clint was really feeling the two days he'd gone with barely any sleep. It wasn't like he hadn't been awake for longer in the past, but Clint was really tired. He couldn't remember when he last ate but the dizziness and shaky hands couldn't be attributed to his concussion alone. Kate followed him out of the car and Clint wanted to tell her to leave but was too tired to start an argument. He didn't need her to babysit him and the fact that she hovered only a couple paces behind him as they made their way inside frustrated Clint beyond measure. Turning, he was about to chew her out when Simone suddenly approached, looking frantic.

“Clint!” she was holding a phone in one hand and a toddler's spoon in the other, clearly her night had been interrupted by something. “I think someone was in your apartment! There was crashing and yelling!”

Clint and Kate looked at each other and cursed, “Shit,” at the same time.

Running up the stairs, Clint nocked an arrow and drew his bow, weapon at the ready. Wordlessly, Kate did the same behind him. He paused outside his door, glancing at Kate. She nodded. Clint turned and kicked the door open with one solid blow. Charging in around him, Kate entered his apartment ready to strike. Clint followed immediately.

To say his place was trashed was an understatement. His living room was a wreck--someone had not only flipped his couch and broken a leg off but knocked his tv off the wall into his coffee table, destroying it and further inspection revealed one of the stools at his counter was smashed to pieces. There were bullet holes _everywhere_ but since Simone hadn’t heard shots Clint guessed the weapons were silenced and only professionals used silenced weapons. Everything else was in complete disarray, well, more of a disarray than usual.

“Clint check this out,” Kate said, gesturing to his kitchen counter as she began lowering her weapon. Whoever had been in his apartment clearly wasn’t there anymore, “What kind of killer brings cake to the crime scene?”

“What?” Clint darted around her, flabbergasted by her words. Sure enough, sitting on his kitchen island was a box of cake with a nasty bullet wound and several containers of take out which had not been there when they left. “Oh no,” Clint was flooded with dread, “Wade.”

“Deadpool? What about him?” Kate snapped, “What’s he got to do with this?”

“We…” and Clint realized he wasn’t even lying, “We had dinner plans. He was coming over tonight.”

Kate’s eyes widened, taking in the scene around her. An obliterated, garish purple cake. Way too much take out for two people. Bullet holes. “He was here,” Kate muttered and blinked over at Clint. He was surprised by the expression in her shimmering blue eyes--guilt and concern and pity, “He isn’t anymore.”

It took Clint a moment to catch up with what she was getting at. “You don’t think...” his eyes panned over to the shattered windows, “Wade wasn’t _kidnapped_. That’s-that’s ridiculous,” then he looked back at Kate, his heart hammering away in his chest, “Right?”

Kate’s expression hardened, “Let’s not rule it out. Try getting ahold of him. I’ll finish casing your place, see if anything stands out.”

Clint pulled out his phone, staring at it numbly. He debated calling or texting but settled on texting. It seemed like the safer bet if Wade actually was...indisposed. Plus talking on the phone was always kind of hit or miss with these hearing aids. He typed up a quick text to Wade, asking where he was and if he was okay. To his surprise, Wade replied almost immediately.

 _Met the in-laws,_ his message read, _They look suspiciously like they belong in AIM. I think they hate your taste in interior design and gang keaw warn apparently pisses them off lol._

Clint sighed and typed back, _That WAS AIM. Are you okay?_

 _Yeah,_ Wade replied, then added, _In a trunk though. Smells like cabbage in a bad way._

Clint wasn't sure anything could smell like cabbage in a _good_ way but found he couldn't make a joke about it. Wade had actually been kidnapped. And even though Clint wasn't directly involved it was most assuredly his fucking fault. Clint sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was so, so tired.

“They got Wade,” he called out to Kate as she stepped out from the hallway. Her face was pinched with grim determination.

“If he has his phone we can track him,” Kate laid a hand on Clint's shoulder and when she squeezed it, her grip was sure, “We’re going to find them and we’re going to stop them,” then she passed him a new quiver, stocked full of arrows, “Now let's go get your boyfriend.”


	6. Chapter 6

The moment Clint saw the little blinky light on Kate’s laptop screen indicating where Wade’s phone, and more importantly Wade himself, was going, he facepalmed. Clint knew _exactly_ where they were and, to put a little cherry right on top, he knew why. The whole time they had been looking for the missing AIM goons, the Avengers assumed they would do something stupid like visit an old AIM hideout, but none of them predicted _this_ level of stupidity.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he groaned, already moving toward the door, “You’re really gonna be pissed at me for this one, Katie. I _hate_ AIM so much.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Kate called out but Clint ignored her and eventually she jogged up to his side, “Clint. What does that mean? Do you know where they are?”

“Oh yeah,” he slung his bow over his shoulder and locked up his apartment behind them, “This is really gonna suck.”

“Stop being vague,” Kate snapped, “I hate when you’re vague. It always ends in disaster.”

Clint glared up at the moon barely visible through the city’s light pollution, “I’m going to make those assholes eat pavement for this. I should be asleep right now.”

Kate huffed out a frustrated breath at his pointed change of topic. She walked around her purple town car and slipped gracefully into the driver’s seat at the same time he plopped down into the passenger’s side. He gave her some mumbled directions and a few hand gestures in the general direction they needed to go and she arched her eyebrow at him irritably.

“I got it,” she whipped the car into drive so fast Clint was knocked back into his seat, “You gonna tell me where I’m going?”

Clint sighed, rubbing at his eyebrows, “Did I already say I hate AIM?”

Kate glared at him, “ _Y_ _es_.”

“It bears repeating,” he cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, loosening the aches and pains in his muscles in preparation for the fight that lay ahead, “They’re really going to wish they hadn’t fucked with Hawkeye.”

“ _Hawkeyes_ ,” Kate pressed a little harder on the gas, “Nobody hurts my friend and gets away with it.”

Clint smirked over at Kate, “Wade’s gonna be psyched when he finds out you care so much.”

“I wasn’t talking about Wade,” Kate snapped back, startling Clint so much he lost his train of thought and was left blinking at her owlishly. She rolled her eyes and wrenched the steering wheel to the right, “Now where are we going?”

“Oh no. Oh _hell_ no,” Kate stared down at the manhole cover as Clint lifted it away, “I am not going into the sewer, Clint. Not now. Not _ever_.”

Clint grimaced, “I know it sucks. But this is definitely where they are. They must have left something behind when we got the drop on them last night.”

“I take it back,” Kate spun around on her heel, walking away, “We aren’t friends. I don’t care what happens to your unlucky, wrong-place-all-the-time ass or your crazy, trouble-magnet husband.”

“Kate,” Clint sighed, already lowering himself into the sewer, “You don’t have to come with me but I need you to cover the exits. Park your car on top of this manhole just in case. We’ll be coming out of the one two blocks over,” he glanced around for a moment, orienting himself, then pointed in the direction he had caught the AIM goons last time, “that way.”

“Fine,” Kate sighed and Clint just caught her saying, “Be careful. Don’t die. You’re buying me coffee after this. Fancy coffee,” as he slid the manhole cover back over him and chuckled. That seemed a fair enough trade for dragging her into this mess.

He stepped off the ladder as quietly as he could and let himself focus on his surroundings. Nothing seemed exceptionally dastardly about the concrete walls and moist floors and awful smell. Clint shuddered while he crept forward. He hated it down here so much. He glanced down at his already wet boots and sighed; that was another pair he was going to have to throw away and he didn’t own an infinite number of the damn things.

Suddenly, Clint’s thoughts drifted back to Wade and all of his inconveniences seemed so damn petty. Clint knew that AIM was looking for weapons down here and he knew they wanted those weapons for all kinds of bad technology-and-world-domination kinds of reasons but he didn’t understand why they would take Wade. That was as frustrating as it was terrifying. The sounds of voices made Clint halt midstep, not daring to make a noise.

Wade sounded chipper as he said, “It’s been awhile Bob! How’s the fishtank coming along?”

“It’s Tim,” was the grunted, frustrated reply, “and all my fish died.”

“Yikes,” Wade continued and Clint started moving again, trying to follow the voices so he could get a visual on the situation, “But that’s why I told you not to go with saltwater. Saltwater tanks are not for beginners. Tropical fish are so finicky. Get a five gallon freshwater tank and a beta, maybe a couple snails. Even you couldn’t mess that up, Bill.”

“ _Tim_ ,” the man growled, “and it wasn’t my fault they--just shut up!”

“Not really my strong suit,” Wade chuckled, “You know I earned the nickname Merc With a Mouth! I can’t just let a couple giant yellow dildos ruin that for me!”

“Talking’s how you got that one, huh?” a new voice cut in and his words were dripping venom. They sounded close. Up ahead, Clint spotted a doorway and he pressed his back to the wall as he approached it, “I thought you got it sucking off Avengers. Then again maybe not since you started at the bottom. I mean, Hawkeye, really?” they laughed and Clint flinched, trying to ignore them as he snuck up to the entrance, slipping his bow off his shoulder, “He’s without a doubt the shittiest Avenger, fucking him isn’t going to get you anywhere except thrown in a dumpster,” Clint froze, “I thought even _you_ had standards.”

Clint tried to squash down the sudden hollowness expanding in his chest, the man’s words settling a deep coldness under his skin. It wasn’t anything Clint hadn’t heard before in some form or another. This time, it hit just a bit too close to home with Clint’s own thoughts. He scrubbed the back of his arm over his forehead to banish his thoughts. He reminded himself that Wade wasn’t a big enough idiot to actually give in to such poor tactics; the AIM assholes were just trying to get under Wade’s skin and they assumed the thought of the two of them screwing would do the trick. Clint knew Wade was smart enough to catch on. Refocusing, Clint used the shiny tip of one of his standard arrows to get a reflected look at the room.

“Words hurt, Jerry,” Wade growled and his anger gave Clint pause. Okay, so maybe the thought of them actually having sex did piss Wade off. His eyes zeroed in, noting the locations of the AIM agents standing around Wade, tied to a chair in the center of the room. One stepped too close to Wade and Wade’s leg snapped out lightening fast, making contact with the man’s knee. A cry of pain, the unmistakable crack of a bone breaking, and Wade’s laughter rang out suddenly, “Though not as much as that did, I bet.”

“You _fucker_!” the man roared and Clint looked away as he heard another crack, this time it was followed by Wade shouting in pain. He nocked four arrows and drew his bow. Next to him, the door was up two steps, thankfully out of reach of the damp floors he was currently crouching over, but unfortunately it meant that whatever he did, he’d have to do it fast, “I know you can’t die but that doesn't mean you can’t suffer. How’s your little faggot Avenger going to feel when we dump you back on his doorstep in _pieces_?”

“Trust me,” Clint snarled, lining up his shot, as heads whipped his direction in shock, “You don’t want to find out.” Then he released his arrows.

He didn’t pause to see if they hit their intended targets, he knew they had. Instead, Clint hurried over to Wade’s side. He had just flicked his knife out to cut Wade free of his bindings when suddenly Wade was on his feet, tackling Clint around his middle and rolling them across the floor. The back of Clint’s head bonked into the concrete before he was suddenly spun once more and ended up on top of Wade’s supine form.

Clint’s first thought was that he was such a fucking idiot for falling for another person who was just using him. Then he saw a laser beam suddenly tear through the space he had just been standing and realized Wade had just saved his life. Wade snatched the knife from his grip and threw in right into the eye of the AIM goon holding the gun, an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Clint winced when the man fell to the floor dead but couldn’t actually bring himself to be sad about it. The guy was a real asshole. Then Clint made a sudden realization, pushing himself up enough to look down at Wade, arms straight on either side of Wade’s head.

“Wade,” he frowned, “Weren’t you tied up?”

Wade grinned and Clint just noticed he wasn’t wearing his mask. Without it, Clint could read his expressions better. Right now he looked like a mischievous little shit, “Technically yes.”

“Oh my god,” Clint huffed, flooded with a mixture of disbelief and irritation, “I was really worried, you know that? You could have slipped the bindings and escaped any time!”

“And pass up an opportunity to be your damsel in distress?” Wade scoffed, “Never.”

“Do you have _any_ -” Clint started but Wade cut off his tirade.

Lifting himself, Wade tilted his chin up and kissed Clint squarely on his lips. For a second Wade turned his head to deepen the gesture, lips moving against Clint’s own, before Clint jerked back in surprise. The moment he pulled back, so did Wade, leaning down to rest on his elbows with a smirk while Clint gaped at him like a fish.

“Did-did you just-?” Clint stuttered out, his face heating to an embarrassing shade of pink once more, “Did you just kiss me?”

Wade grinned, “You kissed me first. I liked it so I thought I’d return the gesture.”

“You _liked_ it?” Clint asked ineloquently, “You weren’t mad about that?”

Wade furrowed his brows, clearly confused, but before he could speak Kate’s voice startled them out of their moment. “This is a disaster!” she snapped, “I will never forgive you for this. Either of you! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? I thought you two were dead! Now quit making out. We are in a literal sewer, have some dignity.”

Clint had so much he wanted to talk about with Wade but he didn’t get the chance. Since the AIM agents were in the sewers in a room stockpiled with weapons they had apparently not found last time the Avengers were down there, Clint needed to stay behind. He had to make sure SHIELD found everything this time, make sure all the bad guys got arrested, except for the one who died which Clint had to lie about tripping onto his own knife in order to cover up the fact that Wade was there, and to make sure that him, or any of his friends, never had to go into the sewers ever again. Kate left with Wade, getting him out before SHIELD arrived so he wouldn’t get in trouble for killing someone. Again, Clint couldn’t even feel that bad about it.

Once he was finally done it was already into the late morning, sunshine beaming in the sky like some kind of cruel joke. The extraction team had a few agents Clint recognized and they seemed to pick up on his mood. One passed him a cup of black coffee that was passably good and another offered to drop him off at his apartment when they were done. Clint accepted both gratefully. He figured they were being so nice to him because they had let the AIM assholes get away last time and Clint had just cleaned up their mess nice and tidy. Once he was back outside his building, Clint saw two new pairs of boots sitting in the trash next to his old pair from the other day and he chuckled to no one. He dropped the boots he was wearing onto the pile as he walked by.

As he made his way up to his apartment, Clint heard voices coming from inside and froze. He was too tired for this shit. If more people had broken into his place then he was more than happy to be robbed as long as he could go to bed after. He had just let out an exhausted sigh when he finally recognized the voices and a gentle warmth took the place of the anxious edge in his chest. It was Kate and Wade, chatting away about sewers and pancakes. Just hearing them in his place made Clint feel like he was coming home and not just back to his apartment. Lucky’s agreeable little woof sealed the deal. When Clint finally opened the door to let himself inside, he froze.

His apartment was no longer the wreck it had been the night before. His couch was sitting up, duct taped back together, and his tv was back up on the wall. All the broken glass and bullet casings had been swept up. His broken windows had some kind of plastic sheet taped over them. In the kitchen, Wade was standing at the stove, his mask on but no longer in his uniform and instead wearing the same Hawkeye pajamas Clint had seen him in yesterday. He was making pancakes. Sitting at the kitchen counter in his last remaining stool was Kate, drying her hair with his towel and wearing one of Clint’s shirts and a pair of his boxers. Lucky was sitting at her feet, begging for her breakfast. The whole scene was so shockingly domestic that Clint could only stand and stare.

“Love Bunny!” Wade called out, presumably to him, “Don’t just stand there! Your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kate glared as Clint kicked the door shut behind him, “Shower first. We just finished cleaning.”

In a startled daze, Clint just nodded and obeyed. He tugged his hearing aids off and set them on the counter next to Kate before shambling to the bathroom and shucking his clothes off, dropping them to the bathroom floor. This time he kept the water cold because Clint was pretty sure he was tired enough that anything warm would knock him out. He actually used his shampoo as he scrubbed himself clean. The little bandaids he’d forgotten he was wearing, which explained the few odd looks he’d caught the SHIELD agents sending him, didn’t hold up under the water so he peeled them off and threw them away. Since it was cold, Clint didn’t linger, washing efficiently and getting out not long after.

He debated brushing his teeth but didn’t bother. His hair was still dripping when he left to go find clothes. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie that he zipped up most of the way before making his way back to the kitchen. When he got back, Kate was no longer sitting in the stool, but on the couch. She was leaning over the back talking to Wade; Clint figured she had moved so he could sit down. With a shrug, he did. The moment he was seated, Wade plopped a plate of food and a glass of orange juice, which he was pretty sure he didn’t have any of, in front of him.

When Clint glanced up, Wade pressed his fingers together on both hands and moved them over his mouth, signing for him to eat. Clint smiled and complied. The pancakes were some of the fluffiest he’d ever eaten and the tartness of the orange juice was incredibly satisfying after such a sweet meal. With a little food inside of him, Clint felt more alive and perked up enough to slip his hearing aids back in. They felt a bit uncomfortable after wearing them for so long but being able to hear Katie and Wade more than made up for it.

He knew he had a sleepy, _dopey_ smile on his face but he couldn’t help it. After the last couple of days, Clint was allowed to feel good. He made his way over to the couch and sat on the opposite end from Kate. Wade quickly joined, sitting right up against Clint even though there was plenty of room, and slung an arm around behind Clint’s back. Kate and Wade were arguing over what to watch and Clint appreciated that they knew he was too tired to join in. Clint’s eyes drooped, he always got so tired in the afternoon. Then he decided to throw caution to the wind.

Leaning into Wade more heavily, Clint tucked his head into Wade’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around Wade’s waist. If Wade didn’t want Clint to cuddle him, he could easily push Clint away and Clint would laugh it off as a joke. That didn’t happen. Instead, Wade’s arm looped around him more tightly and pulled Clint closer. Sighing, Clint shut his eyes as the other two agreed to watch some reality show about models and dozed off to them fighting over whether or not Bianca’s eyes were more fierce than Michelle’s. Lucky barked and Clint liked to think it was him giving his own two cents, probably arguing Matt was the real show-stopper like a good boy. Clint was asleep before he heard who had been voted off.


	7. Chapter 7

When Clint woke up, he was stretched out on his couch, a blanket tucked up around his shoulders, and Lucky was snoring away on his legs. It was dark outside which meant the last couple nights of sleepless bad guy chasing had thoroughly messed up his sleep schedule. He groaned and was surprised when he couldn’t hear it. Reaching up in a panic, Clint felt around his ears but his hearing aids were gone. They had probably fallen off into the couch cushions which sucked because they were incredibly difficult to find once lost to the sofa abyss.

“Aw, ears no,” he muttered into the dark and silence of the world and got no response.

Clint debated going up to his bedroom to sleep but Lucky was a warm, comforting presence and Clint felt too guilty to wake him up. Instead, Clint flicked on his tv, turned it to the animal world channel and sank back into the couch. The flashing lights on the other side of his closed eyes put Clint right back to sleep and he welcomed it with wide, open arms.

The smell of coffee finally roused him from his restless sleep hours later after the sun was well into rising. It was still morning but late enough that he should be getting up anyway. Clint sat up on his couch, back muscles and arm muscles, and every other muscle really, sore and stiff. He reached up to stifle a yawn and scrubbed a hand through his incredible bed head. Couch head? Then Clint glanced around and jumped when he saw a figure in his kitchen. Wade lifted a hand, greeting him with a wave, and he was back in his uniform again. Next to him the coffee pot was on and dripping away.

Wade tapped his chin and lowered his hand before crossing his other arm over his elbow and bringing his hand back up in a short rise, _Good morning_. Then Wade pointed his fingers and bounced them up and down a couple times before laying the flat edge of his hand into his palm, making a cutting motion. Clint had to think about that one for a minute.

“Did you just call me Popcorn Pie in sign?” Clint grumbled and Wade’s smirk was answer enough. Clint shuffled to his feet with a chuckle, “Not one of your better ones.” Wade just shrugged.

As Clint entered the kitchen, he saw the hearing aids that he thought he’d lost in the couch sitting on the counter. Kate must have taken them out after he fell asleep yesterday. He was in the middle of putting them on when Wade approached with the pot of coffee and a mug. He filled the cup and passed it to Clint but Clint grabbed the pot instead, desperate for some caffeine to help perk up. Wade just laughed and didn’t fight it.

“So…” Wade started once Clint was sitting and he leaned over the counter into Clint’s personal space, “When you asked me to pretend to be your sweet, sweet lover in the nighttime did you _actually_ want to bang?”

Clint choked, spluttering around the coffee he had been trying to drink. “What?” he gasped, coughing into his hand, “Wade, what are you-?”

“Because that’d be cool with me,” Wade grinned under his mask as Clint tried to follow, “I really only agreed to the ‘fake/pretend relationship’ trope because I thought it would lead to ‘sharing a bed’ or ‘oh no the hotel only has one room left’ maybe even my personal favorite: ‘huddling together for warmth’ but then we started acting like this wasn’t a ‘fake/pretend relationship’ anymore and I got thrown off by the plot-”

“Wade,” Clint chastised, embarrassed but pathetically lost, “Make sense.”

“Okay, how about this then?” Wade shoved his mask up his face so Clint could really look at him and see that he was being serious, “I want to be your lover, Clint. For real and with absolutely zero ulterior motive. Do you want to go out with me?”

Clint couldn’t have heard that right. It almost sounded like Wade was asking him out which was ridiculous because Wade was clingy and flirty but he wasn’t actually interested. Wade was always making jokes and goofing around. Wasn’t he? Wade quirked a brow impatiently as Clint gaped at him.

“You-? Me-?” Clint tried, “You _want_ to date _me_? Why?”

Wade chuckled and booped Clint on the nose, “Why wouldn’t I, Peaches? You’re so darn cute I could just eat you right up. Not that I would because that’s cannibalism and cannibalism is reserved for being stranded and starving in space or as a big reveal to a hilarious punchline.”

Clint recoiled and Wade laughed at him. Choosing to ignore Wade’s last statement, Clint focused on what Wade was really saying. “Are you serious?” Clint hadn’t noticed how close they were until his eyes flicked down and he saw that Wade’s lips were hovering dangerously close to his own, “This isn’t some stupid joke? Because if it is, Wade, I swear I will stab you with things you didn’t even know could be used as weapons.”

“Sounds kinky,” Wade growled and white hot desire sank into the pit of Clint’s stomach so suddenly it took his breath away, “And I’m dead serious, Clint. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Clint searched and searched Wade’s face for any kind of lie but found none. Swallowing thickly, Clint’s sharp blue eyes landed on Wade’s gaze and he licked his lips quickly, fighting to get words out of his suddenly dry throat.

“Yeah, okay,” Clint felt his cheeks flush but he wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or from the fact that Wade was so close he could feel the heat from the other man on his face, “I would really love to, uh, to date you and I’m really sorry I’m such an idiot because I thought you were just pulling my chain this whole time. I’m rambling now. Sorry, I just really don’t want to mess this up-”

“Can I kiss you?” Wade interrupted, “Affirmative consent is the new sexy.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Clint gasped and didn’t wait for Wade to close the distance between them before he did it himself.

Things between them got heated fast and when Wade yanked Clint up out of his chair, Clint shoved them backward toward the stairs to his bedroom. The two of them didn’t even break their kiss when they slammed into Clint’s bedroom door. Clint grunted into Wade’s mouth when his back hit the wood but it didn’t slow his hands down any as they worked open Wade’s uniform top. He managed to get the front parted and shoved down Wade’s shoulders before Wade hiked Clint’s sweater up his stomach and Clint had to pull away, lifting his arms, so Wade could yank the hoodie off over his head. Then they redoubled their efforts and Clint got the top half of Wade’s uniform completely off before they fell into Clint’s bed.

Of course, reality caught up to Clint then and a panicky flutter in his stomach quickly killed his mood. Wade was on top of him, kissing enthusiastically at Clint’s collarbone and something long and hard poked Clint’s stomach. The ridiculous thought _is that your gun or are you happy to see me?_ flitted through his mind before Clint’s nerves got the better of him and he stilled uneasily. Wade must have sensed something was off because he slowed to a stop and leaned back, straddling Clint’s hips but no longer touching him anywhere else.

“Something wrong?” Wade eyed Clint up and down but made no move to return to their previous activities. Clint sat up on his elbows and Wade shifted off his waist so they were sitting next to each other.

“I-I just…’ Clint glanced up and hesitated when he saw a dark look settling into Wade’s eyes. The man’s usual flippant attitude dissolved for a moment, a brief flash, and Clint caught the hurt underneath. Clint’s breath vanished, heart clenching in his chest. “I’m sorry, Wade.”

Wade smiled but it wasn’t happy, “I get it.”

Clint wasn’t sure he did. “This isn’t something I-” Clint had never been the nervous type. When he wanted someone, he’d always been able to charm his way into their good graces but that had always been with women. Women who probably saw right through him but it didn’t matter because they wanted him too. It worked. This time, he already had who he wanted in bed, he just couldn’t figure out where to go from there. “I’ve never been with another guy!” he forced out quickly, “Sorry if I’m being all weird. I just, uh, I don’t know how to-”

“ _That’s_ what’s stopping you?” Wade’s eyes widened, surprised, and Clint flushed red.

“Well, I mean,” Clint rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, “Yeah. This is all new for me so…” when he glanced over at Wade, the look on the other man’s face was unreadable, “Why? What did you think was wrong?”

“You’re deaf, not blind,” Wade chuckled mirthlessly and Clint was almost offended but couldn’t quite get there. Wade waved a hand over his own face and chest, “I look like a naked mole rat’s less attractive clone.”

Clint had been so wrapped up in his own insecurities, he hadn’t even considered Wade’s. Guilt sank heavily into the pit of Clint’s stomach; Wade must have thought Clint put a stop to things because he didn’t want him, which was so far from the truth it was almost comical. Clint reached up and cupped Wade’s jaw and Wade tensed; Clint recognized it as a move to keep from flinching away and his chest got all tight and achy again.

“I want you, Wade,” Clint swallowed thickly at the emotions clawing up his throat and threatening to spill over into his voice, “I want _all_ of you. So much I’m going futzing crazy over here.” He traced Wade’s bottom lip with his thumb before leaning up and planting a quick kiss over Wade’s mouth, “I’m terrible at this and I’m probably going to fuck it all up but please don’t doubt that I want you. God, I love you so much.”

Whoops.

Clint cursed himself internally. Dropping the L-word, Clint? Really? He’d been trying to go slow, do this whole dating thing right. When he pulled back to look at Wade, Clint was shocked to see a shimmering wetness in Wade’s eyes. This must have been some kind of record for how quickly Clint had destroyed a relationship. Fear must have shown on his face because Wade smiled and brought his hands up to the back of Clint’s neck, holding him steady.

“You got me sprung, Sugar Puss,” Wade’s smile spread into a grin, “Also my dick is so hard it’s going to burst through my pants. How did you know my kink was genuine affection and healthy communication?” Clint thought Wade was kidding but there really was a massive erection straining in his uniform and it startled a laugh out of Clint.

“I do, you know. Love you, I mean,” Clint relaxed into Wade’s fingers as they tangled into the hair on the back of his head. Then his mouth got away from him when Wade tugged at his sensitive locks and Clint whispered out, “I want you to do _everything_ to me,” before he could stop himself. His cheeks flooded red when Wade let out a strangled squawk.

“How did I get so fucking lucky?” Wade growled, apparently not actually asking Clint because he smashed their mouths together before Clint could answer. His tongue swiped over Clint’s lips before diving into his mouth and Clint could only groan, helplessly turned on, into the kiss. Too soon, Wade was parting their lips and Clint chased his mouth before he realized what he was doing. Wade’s hands in his hair halted him and at the slight pull along his scalp, Clint whimpered low in the back of his throat.

“I love you too,” Wade whispered and Clint’s eyes swam up from Wade’s lips to meet his gaze, “Just so you aren’t confused about anything,” Wade pulled Clint’s head back so he could pant into Clint’s ear, lips brushing against his hearing aid, “I, Wade Winston Wilson, am in love with you, Clinton He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named Barton. I would love to show you just how much with a spectacular, bone-melting blowjob, if you’re agreeable.”

“Fuck yes,” Clint groaned, nodding, “I am very agreeable.”

“Good,” Wade chuckled breathlessly, “Then lay back and prepare for the ride of your life, Baby Cakes.”

Clint dropped back into his mattress and spread his thighs so Wade could climb down between them. He had just reached up to adjust the pillow under his head when Wade sucked one of his nipples into his mouth and Clint’s breathing lurched, hands clenching up tight in the pillowcase. Clint glanced down only to find Wade was staring up at him, eyes twinkling in delight as he dragged his teeth over the sensitive bud in his mouth. A groan got stuck in the back of Clint’s throat, his breath hitching when the tips of Wade’s fingers slipped over his navel and slid down slowly, so, so slowly, to the edge of his sweatpants.

Then Wade chased his fingers with his tongue and Clint had to stifle an embarrassing whine into his elbow, dropping his arm over his face. Clint wasn't normally so reactive but Wade was a master at finding every one of his secret little erogenous zones, apparently. Wade’s hands trailed up Clint's sides and caressed his ribcage, swiping his thumbs down the bruising there.

“These are healing up nicely,” Wade hummed, sucking a wet hickey into the v-line of muscles disappearing into Clint’s pants.

“All thanks to you,” Clint chuckled breathlessly into his arm, “Nursed me right back to health.”

Wade gripped Clint’s sweatpants and started tugging, “Next time I’ll wear the uniform and everything.”

Clint couldn’t respond with anything more than an embarrassed groan and Wade laughed at his distress. When he felt the fabric of his pants slide down his thighs, Clint's heart fluttered anxiously but he squashed the feeling by watching Wade between his knees. The other man smiled at him as he slid his sweats off before leaning down and planting a quick little kiss that did a thousand jittery things to Clint's heart right on the inside of Clint's knee. When Wade eyed Clint's stiffening member he let out an appreciative whistle and Clint covered his burning cheeks again with a strangled chuckle.

“My god that's a thing of beauty,” Wade sounded giddy at least, fingers rubbing up and down Clint's legs and stomach and pretty much everywhere but where Clint wanted them, “Can I touch it?”

“Wade, come on,” Clint groaned, flustered, “That's, I mean...that's the idea, right? I want you to touch it or I wouldn't be here.”

“Good point,” Wade's hands moved down Clint's abs and stopped at the base of his cock, “I cannot wait to get this in my mouth.”

Clint rolled his hips up at Wade's feather light touch, “Then _don't_.”

At Clint’s insistence, Wade wrapped his fingers around Clint’s cock. As he bent forward, his tongue slipped out and did something positively devilish to the tip of Clint’s member that had Clint crying out in surprise. Wade laughed around Clint’s cock as he sucked it into the wet heat of his mouth. Clint’s hand scrambled down to Wade’s shoulder, holding on, as Wade swallowed him until he bumped into the back of Wade’s throat. Then Wade sucked, hard, and Clint shuddered under him, hopelessly turned on.

Clint had stamina. He left his lovers satisfied. Yet something about the sight of Wade sucking his cock made him so utterly hot and bothered, Clint was already teetering dangerously close to the edge. It didn’t help that Wade’s smart tongue swirled patterns into the sensitive underside of Clint’s cock every single time he sucked, over and over. His hand wrapped around the bottom of Clint’s member and stroked it up and down as Wade moved over him, devouring his cock noisily. Clint whimpered, shifting his arm up his face so he could tangle his own fingers into his hair and pull.

“Wade, Wade, Wade,” he whimpered as Wade’s throat squeezed slickly at the head of his cock; he tapped at Wade’s shoulder frantically, “I’m gonna-fuck, Wade, I’m gonna cum.”

Wade broke his stride to demand that Clint, “Do it,” before sucking Clint back down. It was one of the hottest things Clint had ever seen or heard and he knew he was done for.

White hot pleasure exploded behind Clint’s eyes and he cried out Wade’s name. All of the muscles in his abdomen rippled as he came, jerking his hips up and bursting into Wade’s eager mouth. Wade didn’t slow down, sucking up every drop of Clint’s climax with loud slurping noises that were so pornographic they were almost embarrassing. He moaned happily as Clint shivered under him. When Wade made no move to stop, Clint sat up just enough to catch Wade on either side of his face and drag him into a languid, sloppy kiss. He could taste himself in Wade’s mouth and it was weird but hot, just like everything Wade did.

A firm hand on his chest pressed Clint back into the bed and Clint went easily in his post orgasm bliss. Wade shimmied up until he was straddling Clint’s abdomen before yanking open his pants and pulling his hard, leaking cock out. It was big, bigger than Clint was expecting, and flushed. Clint watched as Wade gripped himself and began stroking furiously.

“Fuck that was so hot,” Wade groaned and Clint could see he was close.

His eyes scanned Clint’s satiated form and his breathing quickened, hitching with every stroke of his own hand. Wade’s abdomen muscles clenched and his cock twitched but it wasn’t until Clint opened his mouth and slipped out a curious tongue that Wade finally came. He let out a hoarse shout as his seed spilled, splashing across Clint’s chest and spurting over Clint’s waiting tongue. Some missed and landed on his cheek and jaw but Clint ignored it, testing out the taste in his mouth and swallowing down what had landed there. The taste was weird but Clint didn’t hate it.

Wade immediately leaned into him, licking up his own mess off of Clint’s face before sealing their mouths together in a kiss that would make Satana blush, all teeth and all tongue. Clint moaned into the other man’s lips until Wade slowed the passionate gesture into an easy, sensual kiss that left Clint breathless and flushed.

“Was that okay?” Wade asked, dotting little kisses up Clint’s jaw, “I got a little carried away.”

“That was more than _okay_ ,” Clint panted and ran a hand through his disheveled, sweaty hair, “Shit, Wade that was amazing.”

Wade chuckled and pecked Clint’s lips quickly, “I aim to please.”

Clint let out a shocked laugh right into Wade’s face. “No shit!” then he smirked, feeling playful, “I thought you were going to miss and then I’d have to lick it off your fingers or something.”

Wade’s eyes widened but a smirk cut across his features as well, “Well, well, well. That can still be arranged. You know, one good thing about this healing factor bullshit--very brief refractory periods.”

Clint laid back into his pillow and grinned up at Wade, his hands running up the red leather stretched over Wade’s thighs, “I got no plans today.”

“I do,” Wade sat back on Clint’s waist and smiled, “I have all kinds of plans for me and you, Stud Muffin.”

When Wade’s _plans_ were revealed to be sharing a bubble bath, cooking lunch, and watching a marathon of My Little Pony, well, Clint couldn’t really find any reason to complain. The other man didn’t even push him away when Clint stretched over top of him on the couch so he could sleep through whatever friendship magical bullshit Twilight Sparkle and the gals were getting into. Wade just sank his fingers into Clint’s hair and combed his fingers through it until Clint melted into his arms. He kissed Clint’s forehead as he dozed off and Clint fell in love with Wade all over again.


	8. Chapter 8

God, Clint was such a dunce. Kate watched the men sitting in the booth across from her with an exasperated smile. Clint was leaning drowsily over a steaming mug of black diner coffee and next to him Wade was sucking away at a strawberry watermelon fusion milkshake he had brought into the restaurant with him. Every now and then he would shove the straw into Clint’s face trying to get him to try it and Clint would dodge, expertly avoiding the vulgar pink beverage.

Eventually Wade tricked Clint, taking a sip of his drink that only Kate saw before leaning in for a kiss. Clint, even blushing and flustered, was so hopelessly gone for the other man he couldn’t deny him a bit of PDA. When he spluttered at the god awful taste of too sweet strawberry and sour watermelon invading his mouth with Wade’s tongue, Kate rolled her eyes at him. Such an idiot, really.

She didn’t know exactly when their relationship went from pretending they were just friends to admitting they were so in love The Guardians could probably see the heart eyes they made at each other from space but she was glad they sorted it out. As ridiculously schmoopy as they were being now, Clint dipping his fingers in the whipped cream of Wade’s drink to wipe it down his cheek in retaliation as Wade cackled in delight, watching the two of them acting like they were only pretending to date was unbearable. And really, what was Clint hoping to prove by pulling that stunt? That Kate was always right and he should learn to just shut up and do what she says?

Of course she saw through their charade right away. After their little taco date, when Wade had kissed Clint’s neck, all showy and flirty like he usually was only amped up a notch, Kate figured them out. It was Wade’s face when Clint had kissed him back that had completely given them away. No one actually dating would be that shocked by a kiss on the cheek. Wade had blown his cover in that split second with a startled inhale, an almost imperceptible flinch at the feather light touch, a twitch in his fingers like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to push Clint away or drag him closer. It was almost heartbreaking how shocked Wade was that Clint was willing to kiss him and Clint, of course, hadn’t even noticed. God, he was so dense sometimes.

Kate was _almost_ going to interfere: sit the two of them down and force them to face their feelings like adults but she didn’t end up needing to. While Clint was cleaning up SHIELD’s mess in the sewers, Wade came to her for advice or _spiritual and emotional guidance through the befuddling heart of man_ as he had called it.

The two of them had just finished picking up Clint’s apartment, both freshly showered and changed. Kate had a towel around her shoulders, too tired to dry her hair off properly; Wade was still wearing his mask. They were trying to tape Clint’s couch back together when Wade started talking out of nowhere.

“So how do you feel about all of this?” Wade made a vague motioning gesture with his hand and Kate got the gist of what he meant, “I know that when a parent moves on it can be very difficult on the children.”

Kate played along, “I’m happy for you two. You both deserve each other.”

Wade chuckled nervously, “Good, good, good. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to steal your dad away from you or-”

“First of all, never refer to Clint as my dad again that is just so wrong on so many levels,” Kate pointed a scolding finger at Wade and he lifted his hands in surrender, “And I can’t do this anymore. I know you two aren’t actually dating.”

“Oh thank god,” Wade slumped in relief, “I’m terrible at keeping secrets.”

Kate snorted, “Then you won’t be surprised I also know you wish you were.”

Wade slowed to a stop, looking at Kate and through his mask Kate could only see that his eyebrows were furrowed. It was really hard to get a read on him with that thing covering his face. Kate didn’t try. Instead, she bit off a stripe of duct tape and used it to secure the leg they had drilled back onto the couch in place. They were going to need a lot more support than that. Holding it in place, she made a grabby motion at Wade and he handed her another length of tape.

“Yeah, Barton said something about that,” Wade finally spoke and Kate could tell he was testing the waters, unusually serious which Kate took as a good sign, “He told me you thought we should date.”

“Yeah,” Kate stuck the tape up the side of the couch, “I don’t see what the big deal is. Seems pretty straightforward to me.” She leaned back to eye her work and shrugged; it was good enough. When she stood, Wade helped her flip the couch right side up once again. “You like him and he likes you. I don’t know how you can stand the way he _swoons_ over you all the time. The man’s a mess.”

Wade home-aloned, gasping and slapping at his cheeks, “He was swooning over _me_!”

“Obviously,” Kate scratched at Lucky’s ear while she made her way into Clint’s kitchen, “You hungry? I bet Clint has something other than cereal to eat around here.”

“I’m making pancakes,” Wade announced, “and you are giving me spiritual and emotional guidance through the befuddling heart of man.”

Kate sipped at her white hot chocolate mocha latte, the one Clint had begrudgingly bought her, and saw Clint grab Wade’s hand under the table. It was so like them to kiss in front of her and then hide that they were holding hands. She laughed at their expense and Clint turned her way, arching a brow.

“What’s so funny, Katie-Kate?” he asked, suspicious.

“ _You_ , dummy,” she chuckled. When her eyes met Clint’s, Kate was so relieved to see a mixture of all kinds of sweet emotions in his aquamarine gaze: joy and mischief and a bit of the L-word, some for her and some for Wade. Hopefully a little for himself too. “You seem really happy,” she finally said and her voice must have been a tad too serious because Clint’s features softened even more, “You _deserve_ to be happy. It looks good on you.”

Clint’s cheeks flushed a cute pink color. “Don’t be such a sap, Katie,” then he smiled, a little sheepishly and glanced at Wade before looking at her again, “but thanks for, you know, everything. For having my back. I don’t say it enough but I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Kate smirked into her coffee, “Probably dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Clint snorted, “Or a dumpster.”

“Probably,” Kate smiled.


End file.
